


To Be Settled

by AnotherWriterWhoWrites



Series: 2020 366 Days of Writing [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forced Retirement, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Off Screen Violence, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam gets a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWriterWhoWrites/pseuds/AnotherWriterWhoWrites
Summary: Sam and Dean don't find retirement, retirement finds them, whether they want it or not.
Series: 2020 366 Days of Writing [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590919
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33
Collections: Supernatural Summergen 2018





	To Be Settled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annie46fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/gifts).



Dean glared at the cane resting innocently against the bed as if it had personally stood up and insulted his parents, his brother, and his car.

It looked simple enough, it seemed to be made out of plastic with a rubber handle. He fought the urge to go over to it, pick it up, and throw it out the window or preferably in front of his car so he could run it over.

Instead he dragged himself to it and reached out to grab a hold of it, hating how the handle fit his hand perfectly, leaning it against the ground he used it as leverage to bring himself up, trying to keep most of the weight off of his right leg.

He ignored it as best as he could as he made his way to the front of the bunker where his laptop and books were waiting for him. He reached down and felt the outline of his phone in his pocket and after a moment of resistance pulled it out and checked the screen once more.

No new messages or calls.

Scowling he pocketed the phone once more and finally reached the kitchen, reaching out with his free hand to pour himself some coffee, leaning heavily on the cane.

It's been almost two years since he had been forced into retirement, in a sense. He still manned the phones and provided information and at times he pretended to be FBI or bosses or whatever was needed for other hunters to get into their crime scenes.

He was basically Bobby without the beard or the cap.

The worst part of all of this was the understanding that Sam would have to go out on hunts on his own, no backup because in all honesty neither of them trusted any other hunter enough. His brother was hunting alone and with no help and it was driving him insane. 

He knew that Sam was an experienced hunter, the kid had saved the world multiple times during their short lives, but in the end, he was still his little brother. And still even after all these years he needed to be the one next to Sam to make sure that everything was okay and that he was safe. Sending him alone on hunts when against every last deeply ingrained instinct that he had. 

And unfortunately, it was something that needed to be done. Regardless of how much he hated it. 

He took a long drag of his coffee and sat down at the table with a barely hidden groan, even when he was alone he didn't want to give any hints that he wasn't at a hundred percent. Sam had slowly stopped with his mother-henning and Dean had no desire for that to be picked up again.

He clicked a random button on the laptop and it sprang to life, opening back to the articles he had been reading, a three missing persons case that prompted Sam to leave and investigate.

With no call or text in the last couple hours.

He was being ridiculous and overbearing and too codependent even for him. Sam was fine, he was either doing more research or talking to witnesses or police or even on the hunt itself and of course he wouldn't be able to call during any of those times because he was busy and-

Dean checked the phone again, just wanting to make sure that he didn't miss anything in the last few minutes.

Nothing new.

Dean tossed his phone onto the table and leaned back in his chair, sipping at his coffee as he skimmed over the articles once more in case he could pick something else out that he hadn't before.

Maybe this was good, some time apart for the both of them. It might even be a good thing if they didn't talk for a bit, branch out a bit more. They weren't married, they were just brothers, there was no need to touch bases every couple minutes anyway.

But maybe it also wouldn't hurt to just call and see what was happening either.

With that thought Dean nodded and snatched his phone back up, pressing the number 1 to rapid dial his brother.

Dean listened to the dial tone, counting them off. Sam almost always answered his phone between the first and second ring however this time, he didn't pick up.

Scowling Dean threw his phone back onto the table and drained half of his cup, a part of him wondering if it was too early to start adding whiskey into his coffee or if he could grab a beer.

But then he also thought about the painkillers that he might have to take later on and Sam had forbidden him from taking those with alcohol so maybe it was too soon to try.

Although he distinctly remembered the both of them taking pain meds with a mouthful of alcohol in the past so maybe Sam was just being a hypocrite.

His brother was a dick. A dick that wouldn't call or answer his calls or even text him. Just an all around dick.

Dean glanced at his phone once more. Nothing.

Absentmindedly his hand went down to his knee and lightly massaged at it, trying to push away the slowly growing pain. Ever since a wendigo had taken out a chunk of his leg nothing on that side had ever been the same, hence the cane and the forced semi retirement.

Sam would always remind him that it could've been worse, he could've died or lost more limbs or a whole number of things. In hindsight Dean knew that this was one of the better options, he still had his two legs, even if one was a bit lame at times, and he could move and be alive.

He just hated that he couldn't watch his brothers back anymore.

Shaking his head Dean minimized the window with the article and glanced through his email, answering a few other hunters that were looking for advice or lore or a new case their way. He put his phone to the side and only glanced at it every few minutes instead of calling so he had to call that a bit of success.

He managed to work for a few hours like that, answering emails and looking information up; Sam had started an online database with information to make it easier to find things. There were only the most common monsters for now but eventually Sam wanted to upload everything in the bunker onto the website.

Overachieving bastard that wouldn't pick his phone up to give his older brother some peace of mind that he was.

He answered a few calls, none from Sam let him add, and sent other hunters on their way. He didn't really like how young some of them sounded but pushed those thoughts away, none of them wanted anything from him other than information and it was none of his business how people were living.

He had started in the life as a kid on the road in the backseat of his dad's car, these kids were older than he had been.

And the now cold and old coffee didn't exactly wash out the bitter taste in his mouth at that regardless.

Glancing at the corner of his laptop Dean was surprised to see that it was so much later in the day, he had actually skipped lunch without realizing it, and he reached out to grab his cane to get into the kitchen.

He grabbed the phone instead and glanced at it once more. Still nothing.

"Goddamnit Sam." Dean grounded out as he stabbed the call button and brought it up.

Again all he had was to listen to the dial tone, this time he decided to leave a message.

"I know you're all happy to be out and away from me you dick but the very least you can do is text or something." he said. "Call me back Sam, or at least text me, let me know you're alive."

He gripped the phone tightly and fought back the urge to throw it against something in frustration. Even when they had to be apart on hunts they at least kept in contact with one another and made sure that the other knew they were alright. 

This time Dean took the cane in hand and got up, going towards the kitchen and snagging his now empty cup as well. He poured himself another cup and looked around as he tried to figure out what to eat. 

He actually wasn't that hungry, his stomach was too tied up to even think about food but he also knew that he needed to eat, he couldn't survive on just coffee anymore like he used to. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed some cold cuts, making himself a small sandwich; it required the least amount of effort. 

He had taken one bite into the sandwich when his phone suddenly rang. Spitting it out he moved as quickly as he could, snatching his phone up and all but barking into it. “Hello?”

“Mr. Winchester my name is Tonya Willow, we found your brother unresponsive and he is in our custody.”

\-----------------

Sam was quiet as Dean drove them back to the bunker, he stared out the window and his body was turned away from Dean. 

"Sammy." Dean started to say, trying to find the right words. "Do you want to-"

"No." Sam injected, his voice brisk and to the point. 

Dean nodded, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and ignoring the pain in his knee as he pressed the pedal.

They had finally reached their home and Dean brought them down into the garage, turning the car off. When he realized that Sam hadn't moved to get out he stayed as well, waiting for his brother to make the first move, whatever it was. 

"Dean." Sam said quietly. "I don't want to hunt anymore."

Dean felt something close up his throat and he had to swallow, feeling as if he couldn't speak for a moment. "Alright Sammy." he said softly. "You don't need to keep hunting. We don't need to keep hunting." Left unsaid was that Dean couldn't hunt anymore whether he wanted to or now. 

Sam nodded, curling slightly in on himself and nodding once more. "Okay." he whispered. 

Dean reached out slowly, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder, trying his best to ignore how Sam flinched at his touch and pushed away any thought of why he would do so.

"C'mon little brother, lets get inside." he murmured, rubbing his thumb against Sam's shoulder.

\-----------------

It was the lack of sound that caught his attention more than anything.

Dean had been on high alert for a while after the hunt, Sam still refused to tell him anything what had happened and no amount of prying would work. If it had been anything else Dean might've tried to loosen his tongue with some drinks but Sam had almost taken a vow of sobriety.

Again, he didn't want to think about the why and focused only on what was happening.

So Dean had been forced to stay outside of Sam's bedroom for hours on end at night when he slept in the hopes that sleep would help make Sam say something, anything, that might be able to help Dean to understand.

After a few nights of doing this he bit the bullet and opened the door, peering inside at his brother and careful not to make a single noise to wake him up.

Only to see Sam deep asleep with tear tracks running down his face, and for a second Dean swore that he was having a heart attack right there. Sam had always been the quiet one, the one to suffer in silence rather than bother anyone else with it.

A part of him fought that he should wake Sam up right then and there, at the very least to save him from his nightmares, he hesitated for a moment and came into the room completely, his leg barely dragging behind him.

Gingerly he sat down on the edge of the bed, he could already tell from the tenseness in Sam's shoulders that his brother was awake but kept his eyes closed pretending to sleep.

That was fine with him, Sam didn't technically need to be awake.

Reaching out Dean brushed his fingers through Sam's hair, his movements gentle and as soothing as he could be.

He could remember doing this countless times when Sam had been a kid and refused to leave his side at times, they even had to share the same bed when they were younger because Sam didn't want to let go. It was always a sure fire way to calm him down.

And more importantly to go to sleep.

Dean let his hand drift downwards to the back of Sam's neck, his thumb rubbing against the knot he could feel there. Slowly, bit by bit, Sam started to relax, the tension leaving his shoulders and back as the knot slowly released.

He wasn't sure how long it took for Sam to relax completely, in between one breath and the other Dean could tell that he had fallen asleep.

He didn't want to risk moving and possibly waking Sam up again, and maybe, just maybe, his presence here would help Sam a bit more. Give him something to hold onto at the least.

And in all honesty, there was no other place he'd rather be.

\----------------

It did and it didn't get better after that. Sam still refused to talk about what had happened, still refused to even acknowledge that something had happened. Dean didn't trust him to just be on his own at night anymore so every night he would stay by his brothers side.

At first Sam had complained about it, said something about them being adults or some crap like that, Dean had zoned out after a few seconds and didn't listen to whatever he was saying and continued to do the same. 

Dean was sure that the first time he had climbed into Sam's bed Sam would've pushed him out of it if it hadn't been for his leg. 

He had also fallen asleep easily once Dean had started to pet at his hair so that was a bonus as well. 

And in all honesty Dean had started to sleep a bit better as well, knowing that Sam was close by and safe was more than enough for him to be able to sleep peacefully. 

The moment when Sam would have a nightmare Dean would wake up, always attuned to his little brother's distress and he would calm him down, sometimes he'd hum something, more often than not it was either 'Hey Jude' or some sort of rock song from the radio that they had grown up listening to. 

He wasn't sure how well it was working but it was something, it was all that he could do, and he hated admitting it to himself but he also knew that it wasn't enough, he needed to do something else. 

He needed to do something for his brother. 

\-----------------

Dean knew that there was something else that Sam needed, something that he couldn't give him and so, he set out to try and find it.

In the end he went to the path he had, reluctantly, gotten good at. Research. The problem had been keeping it a secret from Sam, they had become open books to one another lately and keeping a secret had become harder. 

They had also agreed that they wouldn't keep secrets anymore, not after Gadreel, not after the mark, not after everything that had happened. So while it did leave a sour taste in his mouth, he tried his best to ignore that by using the excuse that what he was doing was for Sam's benefit. 

When that started to sound in his head like what he had said about Gadreel he just stopped thinking about it and continued what he was doing. 

It took a few days of research, done late at night or when he was in the bathroom, those few short minutes that he was alone. Sam had started to regress more with each passing day, refusing to even leave the bunker without Dean being there with him. 

Finally when he thought he found the perfect one he had nodded and glanced up at Sam, closing his laptop after sending another email. "Hey Sam." 

Sam gave a small grunt of acknowledgement, not looking up from his own laptop. 

"I'm thinking about going to town." he said, noting the small bit of fear that shot over Sam's face. "Wanna come with me? Get some supplies?"

Sam looked relieved and nodded, closing his laptop. "Sure."

\-----------------

He had planned to go shopping, they really did need to stock up on supplies again, but first, he made a small detour to another building and ushered Sam inside.

Dean led the way, seeing from the corner of his eye Sam looking around. The only sound was his cane and Sam's footsteps. 

"Dean, where are we?" Sam asked slowly. 

"Just somewhere." Dean said vaguely. "We need to pick something up here."

"Thought we were getting supplies." 

"We are." Dean confirmed. "We're getting something that we need."

They passed by a few offices with windows that they were able to look into and Sam could see people sitting in there with animals. 

"Dean." Sam said his voice lowering in wonder, the same that he had when he had been younger and Dean couldn't help but smile at the nostalgia. "Dean."

Dean glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him as they reached the office they needed to and he opened the door.

To show a golden retriever sitting patiently in the middle of the room, her tail wagging behind her when the both of them came in. 

"Good afternoon Mr. and Mr. Campbell." the therapist said with a smile. "Dean, I assume this is Sam."

Dean nodded and reached out with his free hand to shake hers. "Yeah this is him."

"Dean." Sam whispered, his hand going out to grip at Deans arm. "Dean. Is this..."

"This is one of our service dogs for patients that are suffering from various ailments." the therapist said gently. "Your brother told me about some of your experiences."

Dean reached out and took Sam's hand in his when his brother's face fell and he stared down at the ground. "Didn't tell her everything Sammy." he told him. "Just some."

"I would like to speak with you as well Sam, just to make sure." she said. "And if we believe that you need a service dog, we will provide one for you."

Sam looked from the dog to the therapist to back at Dean, eyes wide and shaking slightly. "Dee?"

Dean smiled and squeezed Sam's hand. "Yeah?" he said softly. 

"Thought you didn't like dogs in the impala." Sam said, looking up his voice heavy and tears in his eyes as he managed a small smile. 

Dean smiled back. "I think this time we can make an exception." he said. "But you're cleaning up the fur."

He had been sent out to wait in the hallway while Sam spoke with the therapist, thankfully there were chairs so he could sit down and put the cane to the side. He took his phone out and shot off a few more emails, trying his best not to fidget too much or get impatient. If time was needed then time would be given.

He wouldn't smile about it or be glad about it though but he'll be happy in the end.

Finally after what seemed like hours the door opened and Sam came out holding a small mountain of papers in his hands. And the dog followed after him closely.

Sam's eyes were red and puffed up a bit, a sign he had been crying, but his smile was as wide as anything and that just made it all the more brighter for Dean.

"So what's the name of the fur ball?" Dean asked, standing up and holding his hand out for the dog to sniff.

Sam smiled and laid a hand on top of her head, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing against her. "Jessica." he said softly.

Dean nodded and gave a smile of his own. "Yeah, that fits her."

\-----------------

And slowly, things started to get better bit by bit. Jessica being there didn't make it all go away, Sam still had nightmares, but she did manage to make it a bit more manageable. By the time Dean would reach him, they had tried to start sleeping in separate beds again, Jessica had managed to help calm him down enough that they could actually either talk or Dean felt safe enough to leave him alone.

Sam had even started to leave the bunker on his own too, he had to take a different car though because he let Jessica in the passenger seat and Dean drew the line at letting a dog in the passenger seat. Backseat was fine, but not in front.

Sam would go into town, him and Jessica, to do supply runs or get their mail or even at times meet up with other hunters to give them artifacts or objects or get something that needed to be looked over.

And in all honesty it made Dean more willing to go outside as well, something he had avoided unless it was necessary. He had been a mixture of ashamed and embarrassed at the people seeing his cane but now, he learned to just tell them mentally to fuck off and he didn't give as much of a damn.

He could still be without the pitied looks from other hunters but he also learned to pick his battles.

Dean drank slowly from his beer, Sam had decided to lift the ban on alcohol for an evening but was still limiting him from too much, he was only allowed a single bottle. He tried to savor the taste but couldn't really find it in him to even like the taste anymore. He then slid the bottle to Sam and got himself a bottle of soda instead.

He ignored Sam's little satisfied smile and ignored the bottles of juices in the refrigerator as well, he needed something that wasn't healthy.

He was actually drinking some of those juices when he was alone, somewhat out of curiosity and somewhat out of boredom and needing a new drink but he'd rather not mention that to Sam now or ever.

Sam, annoying but loyal little brother that he was, didn't say anything and bought a variety of flavors instead.

He was also sure that if his liver could talk, it would be thanking him profusely for the change in drinks.

They decided to ignore everything else tonight as well, setting up their emails and phones for emergencies only. Dean cooked them dinner, steak and vegetables to pacify Sam, something that Jessica enjoyed as well once she got her cut of the meat. As always she was sitting next to and under the table to Sam, though she often would nose over to Dean and stare up at him woefully, and look too much like her master, for more bits of his steak.

Dean couldn't help but smile as he offered her another piece, his hand coming up to rub at her head, glancing up at his brother. 

Sam smiled back at him, sipping his carrot juice, he had said that it was good for his eyesight and Dean would admit to himself only that maybe he'd be needing some of that soon. 

“Never thought that it would come to this.” Sam said softly, spearing a piece of potato. “Never really thought that we'd be able to retire like this.”

Dean nodded, rolling the bottle in his hand. “Definitely didn't think that it would be like this.” He said, glancing at his cane, he had to admit that it was a good one. Both the handle and the post were heavy and comfortable, and could be used as a possible weapon. He had thrown it at the wall at one point in the beginning and it had made a hole in the wall to go through and he had thrown it long ways.

He could feel Jessica nudging at him once more for more scraps and he shook his head fondly as he cut her another piece and fed it to her under the table.

Sam was across from him, looking healthy and well rested, his entire body relaxed and at ease. They had no bags under their eyes and while their bodies did sometimes hurt when it was going to rain but they had no other pain to bother them anymore. 

Dean nodded to himself and lifted his bottle up, angling it towards his brother. Sam looked amused for a moment before he lifted his bottle as well. 

“We made it Sammy.” Dean said softly, his hands no longer having any callouses from guns and only from pens. “We did it.”

Sam smiled and tapped his bottle against Deans. “Yeah we did.” he said just as softly. “I'm...I'm really happy Dean.”

“Me too Sammy.” Dean said, bringing his bottle up to take a drink. “Me too.”

There really was no other place he wanted or needed to be, hunting, research, or farming, none of it mattered so long as Sam was with him. In the end, that was all he needed, he just wanted and needed his little brother by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 169/366
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.
> 
> Apparently I forgot to upload this one from a while back.


End file.
